


From the Skin of his Teeth

by MADVS



Category: JUDGE EYES: 死神の遺言 | Judgment
Genre: M/M, Spoilers, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 09:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20905250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MADVS/pseuds/MADVS
Summary: Ayabe realizes just how close he was to dying





	From the Skin of his Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> More practice on that whole touchy feels shid

The holding cells hardly felt anymore welcoming even after he had been acquitted. In fact, knowing he was a free man and still being here made it just a little more unbearable. While the cops were busy filling out paperwork and all sorts of formalities, Ayabe was just itching to finally get out of here.

At least they gave him some coffee to hold him over. Dark, no cream or sugar, and so watered down he could see the bottom of the white styrofoam cup it was in. Still he drank it, needing some sort of energy boost. His eyes were more sunken in than usual; the almost certainty of him being tried for a crime he didn’t commit barely helped him sleep well at night. The stubble on his chin unruly and prickly to the touch. He took a sip, wincing at the taste that seemed more akin to sweetwater outside a coffee shop than actual coffee.

It reminded him of the stuff at the police station. Almost. On the rare instances Kuroiwa felt a shred of good will and would come into his office without saying a single word before placing a cup of coffee at his desk. He’d serve it dark, too. Kuroiwa probably liked it that way too, but knowing him, he probably gave it to Ayabe like that because he knew he liked his with cream and sugar. Can’t let Ayabe think he’s being too nice. 

That was only a memory now, and an odd one at that. 

Kuroiwa was always kind of a creepy dude to Ayabe, and when he showed kindness it always put him on edge. An alarm would go off in his head, his whole body would tense up like a rabbit, ready to bolt at any second. 

And in the end Ayabe was right, but maybe in a way he didn’t expect. Deep down, it was hardly surprising. Using pleasantries as a cover up was hardly anything new, plenty of serial killers have used that method. Hiding something dark and nasty behind a smile of saccharin. Kuroiwa was always so perfect, so precise- to the point where it was straight up infuriating. That alone was enough for suspicion, but Ayabe never could back up his paranoia with anything other than saying ‘He’s an asshole’.

But damn, a serial killer? Even that was…

Ayabe takes a sip of his coffee and sighs. He’s been wearing this damn suit for way too long. He wasn’t a stranger to shirking off personal hygiene, but his own BO was really starting to get to him. He can already hear Kuroiwa berating him for it, calling him a slob, a mess, wondering how he was even alive if he can’t even take care of himself.

When Kuroiwa forced him to shower after they spend a night at their house, it felt more like he was being scolded by an overbearing parent rather than someone he had slept with the night before. Ayabe thought Kuroiwa was just bad with people. He as the heartthrob of the force and yet never held a relationship. Their relationship was a confusing one, Ayabe concluded. An unhealthy, confusing mess. No one knew about it too, so it was always funny when Ayabe would eavesdrop on girls talking about all the ways they could win over Kuroiwa’s heart, and knowing all their plans would fall flat if they even tried.

And even if they could, would they like what they’d get? Ayabe didn’t mind it all that much, even if he was sure Kuroiwa was using him to blow off steam. Cigarettes put out in his chest, a few cuts on his legs and arms, even his tongue when they were really wasted. And the threats-  
Kuroiwa loved threats the most. 

It could range from Ayabe doing something he didn’t like, and Kuroiwa yelling that he’d rip out his eyes or gut him like a fish. 

He’d be running late for work, and Kuroiwa said he may as well chop off his legs if he’s going to be so damn slow.

He’d be enjoying some fast food, and Kuroiwa says he’ll give himself a heart attack before he’d even get the chance to kill him himself.

He’d be in the middle of fucking him and he’d just wrap his hand around his throat, saying how easy it’d be to kill him right there.

Did Kuroiwa mean all of that?

“H-hahhh, yo-you wouldn’t k-kill me…” 

Ayabe rubs his throat. The red stripes that would mark him have long faded away, but his skin burned. 

“I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t be able to get away with it if I did.”

Ayabe just thought Kuroiwa was shit at telling jokes. But now he isn’t so sure

Kuroiwa was right, he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. But damn the look in his usually empty black eyes straight up twinkled when he had Ayabe under him like that, and for a second Ayabe thought that if Kuroiwa was just a little more fucked up he wouldn’t have cared about getting caught or not and killed him on the spot. Despite this, Ayabe always kept crawling back. If he didn’t, Kuroiwa would just come to him anyway.

He gasps, a chill rips up his spine and cuts him from his thoughts. He hadn’t even realized how much he had been sweating. Red faced and heated up despite how cold they kept this damn thing. He looks around the empty jail cell. The echo of his own heavy breathing the only response he got.

He clenches his fist, his whole body felt like a wound up ball of string, laced with little knot that are next to impossible to undo. Even when he got out, he felt like things just wouldn’t be the same. 

Did the room get colder? He takes a hold of his coffee and imbibes another sip. Its heat faded quickly, bordering on lukewarm almost. Ayabe winces in disgust. Just how long has he been here?

He feels pain on his neck once more, where Kuroiwa’s palms would press and his fingers tightened, pressing deep into his skin, cutting off the air from his lungs- the blood from his brain. The sensation vivid, as if someone is lingering right over his shoulder.

He felt something touch his back and he quickly spins around. The door didn’t open, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that no one was there. But he still swung himself around just to make sure, and surprise surprise, it was still just him there. Alone in this empty room with some weird phantom pain and a head full of overwhelmingly unpleasant thoughts. 

The loud metal door creaks loudly as it opens up, and a guard steps in. “Good afternoon Ayabe-san, you’ll be escorted out now.”

Ayabe nods his head and stands up from the cold metal chair and follows the guard out of the room. If only closing the book on this ugly little chapter and forgetting about all of it would be that easy. Things in life would be easier without a sick motherfucker like Kuroiwa running around gauging people's eyes out. But Ayabe was always a little bit selfish.

It had only dawned on him now he had his lips pressed with death this whole time. It makes all those memories just a little bit sweeter.

**Author's Note:**

> I should just stick to porn but hey you never get anywhere without trying. Constructive criticism always appreciated   
@MADVSC


End file.
